An Unexpected Party
by Lithuenne
Summary: What happens when the company unknowingly sets camp in a clearing that is just a little closer to the magical world than they know? Where the boundaries between worlds have become thin and need little bidding to break entirely? Why a party of course!


Only a week into the journey and the company was already weary of traveling. It was so boring, so monotonous, nothing unexpected happening to break up the slow and steady pace along their chosen path. They had set up camp in a forest clearing and were now sitting in a rough circle around the fire as the sun began to set, waiting rather impatiently for the food to finish cooking.

When at last the meal was ready they doled it out quickly, eager for even the simple act of eating to chase away their boredom. Bofur was dishing up the food, carefully making sure each member got their fair share and slapping Bombur's hands away from the ladle with a fond eye roll. "Wait your turn brother," he grinned. "We haven't started seconds yet, we've yet to get through the entire group." He looked up to confirm that his statement was indeed true, surprised to note that Gandalf had disappeared. He didn't recall giving the wizard any stew, and yet the man had wandered off without so much as a by your leave. "Where's Gandalf got to?" he mused aloud.

"No idea," Thorin grouched, looking displeased to find him gone, or perhaps just that he hadn't noticed. He did not appreciate being given the slip, which he felt the wizard had just done, for it rankled to think he might have been complacent in his watch duties. The wizard's horse was still there, tethered with the ponies, so he clearly hadn't gone very far. "Bother on him," he added peevishly. "He can get his own food if he chooses to wander off during mealtimes."

Bofur shrugged, unwilling to further offend their leader, and offered up the rest of the pot to anyone that was finished. It was quickly devoured, and still their missing companion had not returned. Bedrolls were laid out, and the company got comfortable, pulling out pipes and little pieces of whittling, and wrapping themselves in cloaks to ward off the chill air. They talked softly amongst themselves, telling tales and discussing the journey, occasionally letting out a small burst of laughter as someone made a joke.

It was during one such noisy moment that Bilbo, who had the keenest ears of the group, detected an odd ruckus from outside the camp. It sounded like a great many people laughing, and though it was far off, he sensed that it was coming closer. He got to his feet, ears pricked as he went to the far reaches of the firelight to listen better, but the company was still being noisy, to his irritation. "Quiet!" he hissed, gaining their immediate and indignant attention.

Several appeared ready to yell at him for being rude until they noted his tense state and the way he was no longer paying attention to them. "What is it laddie?" Balin asked, coming over to place a hand on his shoulder in a companionable way.

"Voices," Bilbo murmured. "Coming closer. There are at least ten by my reckoning, perhaps more."

At his announcement Fili and Kili were instantly at his side, the two having almost as good hearing as he did in their young age, and both strained to find what had captured their burglar's attention. "I hear it too," Kili whispered, grinning suddenly.

"What's so funny?" Fili asked him, before he too caught the incoming sounds of merriment. "Oh haha, sounds like quite a party," he exclaimed. "Men most likely, they speak westron, though from the sounds of it they are either drunk or not from around here. I don't fully understand what they are saying." Still he was holding back laughter as he described the noise, so the company eased a little from their battle-ready state, more curious than ever.

"Can we go see what it is?" Ori asked plaintively, pushing past Dori who was already shaking his head in concerned denial.

"No, no, it could be dangerous," the elder brother protested, grabbing the younger sibling by the arm and tugging him back to a spot behind him. Ori sighed in annoyance, more than a little tired of his brother's mothering ways.

"Oh come on, lighten up," Nori crowed out, slapping Dori on the back and hastily dodging his return swing. The younger members of the group clamored in agreement, already inching forward to see what was going on even as they turned their heads back to give Thorin an expectant look.

The dwarf leader exchanged a resigned glance with the other elder members of the company, sensing they might just mutiny if he denied them this chance for a little adventure. "Oh all right," he growled. "But, we stay together," he barked out warningly, the order not deterring them in the slightest as they now surged forward.

They knew they were getting closer as even the most hard of hearing in the group began to detect snippets of the noise that was bouncing off the trees. Odd lights could be seen flickering around, bright like sunlight, or very large fireflies, sometimes holding steady and next moment moving very erratically. "What is that?" Gloin frowned, intrigued despite himself.

"Some sort of witchcraft most likely," Dori muttered. "Probably going to get us all killed." He was wholeheartedly ignored, and he huffed in irritation, keeping a close hand on his weapon.

They were soon at the edge of another clearing, and the group was still in shock for several moments, unable to comprehend the sight on front of them. A group of young men dressed in the oddest clothing they had ever seen were dancing around a roaring fire and drunkenly singing. Their flimsy shirts had brilliant colors and patterns stamped on the fronts, creating designs that none of them recognized, and many were clad in odd, cut off trousers that only reached mid-thigh, hardly suitable clothing for a journey in the wild lands. Some carried strange metal tubes, and it was these objects that were creating the unnatural light that they had seen, though they could not discern how that was at all possible.

The only familiar things the company could see were tables laden with food and kegs of what must have been alcohol, judging by their drunken state. Some of the food was recognizable, others were completely foreign, but it was while they were examining this facet that the men noticed their wide-eyed audience.

"Hey!" they cheered in a merry slur. "Did ya come to join the party then? Got a right kegger goin!" A few began to scrutinize them quite closely, sniggering at some unknown joke.

"Brian, Brian," one called out, getting his friend's attention. "Look, they're like larpers or somethin, like yer wierd cousin!"

The dwarves exchanged glances, utterly bewildered by this point. Larpers? What in all arda was a larper?

Bilbo surprised the company by being the first one to speak. "What are those light tubes?" he asked the closest man, leaning forward to get a closer look.

"Light tubes?" the man squawked with a burst of laughter. "This 'uns a flashlight mate. How drunk are you?" He tossed it to Bilbo, and the startled hobbit barely caught it on the tips of his fingers. "Ere, you c'n 'ave it. S'not mine anyways."

"Hey, that's mine that you're givin away Kev," another piped up, but he grinned at Bilbo and waved off the hobbits hasty attempt to return the object. "Nev' mind, I can get another."

When the dwarves gathered around Bilbo to see his new prize the young men gave them a strange look before laughing some more. "Must be high," the one called Brian cackled. Several of his friends slapped him on the back as if he had just told the funniest joke, but the dwarves were lost.

"Fergit the stupid light and come drink with us!" some of the men called then, instantly perking up the company. This was something they were quite familiar with indeed, and they needed no further invitation. Strange, crinkly cups were pressed into their hands, and several of the group winced as they managed to crush the delicate vessels in their strong grips, the others laughing at their humiliation before plying them with more alcohol and a warning to be careful. For the first few moments they spent as much time examining the odd cups as they did drinking the liquid contained within.

Strange music suddenly blared out of a dark metal box, and the company jumped, spilling their drinks and staring at the odd contraption as if it was going to bite them. The men ignored their reaction, hallooing wildly and returning to their dancing and off-key singing. Some of them were starting some sort of drinking game, though the rules appeared to be changing with every drink they took, until they were simply downing booze as fast as they could. Fili and Kili were quick to get in on the action, earning several heartfelt cheers as they held their liquor much better than the others.

Thorin flinched when he was suddenly accosted by two of the men, both slinging arms around his shoulders in a friendly way and starting a cheerful interrogation of which he was only able to understand every second word.

"So what's yer name then?" the first, whom he dubbed leftie due to his present position.

"Thorin," he offered shortly, unsure what to make of so much attention, and quite ready for a trick.

"Thor, thor, eh, I'll call you Tom," the man slurred, getting a laugh from his inebriated companion. "I'm Zach, and that idiot is Sean," he introduced the two of them, and Thorin had to fight the urge to raise a brow at the strange names, and how easily they had butchered his own.

"That's a sweet wig," Sean commented, jokingly pulling on one of Thorin's braids and chuckling when the dwarf slapped his hand away in irritation at being so manhandled.

"It's not a wig," he bit out, feeling not the least bit better at seeing that other members of the company were being similarly treated. Bilbo in particular was trying to fend three curious onlookers away from his feet, his cheeks having turned bright red in embarrassment, and that _did_ almost make Thorin laugh. 'Serves the prissy burglar right for leading them into this', he thought self-righteously.

"It's real?" the two at his sides asked incredulously. "Is the sword real too?" Zach blurted, reaching for it to see for himself.

Thorin planted a hand on the hilt defensively before deciding that perhaps the way to satisfy the lad's curiosity would be to just show him. "It is," he announced, drawing it with a sharp hiss and holding the blade out in an impressive gesture.

"Woah," the two murmured, awed by the sight. "That's totally awesome!"

Seeing how the two had backed away a little, the rest of the company followed suit, showing off their weapons and rejoicing in the comforting bubble of space it afforded them. Dwalin was soon enthusiastically displaying the correct use for a pair of knuckle dusters, chasing Fili and Kili around the clearing while the others roared with laughter, and Ori was roped into using his slingshot to topple stacks of the flimsy cups off tables. He would even hit them just perfectly so that some of the bottom ones flew out of the stack, leaving the rest standing. A couple of the men tried to replicate his feats, throwing rocks at the trees and even each other, but it quickly dissolved into a war of insults as their aim was highly compromised.

They took a break from drinking once they had calmed down, passing around food and showing off the many delicious treats that had brought. The sausages (or hotdogs as the men so quaintly called them), were a firm favorite, as were the puffy marshmallows, the sweet treat being entirely new to the company. "I'm gonna learn how to make this somehow," Bombur promised, garnering a cheer of approval from the others, and shouts of advise from the men, who clearly had no idea how they were made but were eager to throw out wild guesses all the same.

The feasting and drinking carried on long into the night before the festivities were at last rounded off by a competition for who could sing the most inappropriate songs. They never did decide who won, for by that time they had drunk too much to even comprehend what was coming out of their mouths, and the lyrics were utterly destroyed. It was a content group that fell asleep where they sat, too full of good food and drink to bother worrying about their camp or mounts.

When they woke up the men were gone, as were all their party things. The dwarves might not have even believed they were ever there, if it were not for the crinkled cup that lay at the edge of the clearing, and the shiny metal tube half tucked in the pocket of Bilbo's jacket...

* * *

**Author's note: Sometimes I worry about my brain, and by sometimes I mean times like this, when the most ridiculous ideas get into my head and take hold. I hope that was amusing for some of you, and that you take it with a grain of salt, as it really wasn't meant to be plausible in any way. As for Gandalf's convenient absence? Perhaps he had something to do with it and perhaps he didn't. We may never know...  
**


End file.
